Aurelia || SERIES ROMANA I

Chapter 90 ~ Isolatus

With a slow grace and elegance, the mist rose steaming from the river, crawled out of its wet bed and meandered through the gently rolling land. Silently and gently, it enveloped the tents of the Roman camp and hid it from the prying eyes of the local scouts. The winter camp still lay peacefully sleeping in the thickening fog and no one who had never seen such a place with his own eyes before could guess that in a few moments this idyllic peace would be shattered by a few short, booming sounds from the horns of the legionaries in charge and every man would turn to his tasks.
In the entire camp, there was only one person, besides the many slaves already working silently, who was on his feet and already going about his work before the first signal. In the Praetorium, the leader of the army, Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, was already sitting at his heavy desk reading reports on the state of his empire, compiled by his wife in the heart of the world empire. Gaius communicated with her via a separate military post, whose sole task was to maintain contact between the most powerful man and the most powerful woman in the empire. But even though they had other, faster ways, a letter still took far too long, so that everything Gaius found on his desk was by now several months out of date. They let the senate believe that Aurelia spoke in his name and on his behalf at all times. So far, this strategy had worked well.
Shivering, Gaius pulled his cloak tighter around him and rubbed his hands against the Britannic chill that crept inexorably into his tent. At least he had provided enough blankets, socks and gloves. Still, at the beginning of winter, it had been an overcoming for many of his soldiers to change into leggings. But in the end, the merciless cold had driven everyone into this particular garment.
With a relieved smile, Gaius put the last report aside and grabbed the private letter his wife had enclosed. After only a few weeks in the winter camp, he had had to learn that he worked through her reports more quickly if he saved her private messages until last. For each of her letters made him feel as if she were with him for a brief, delicious moment, so that after reading it for the first time he went over it again and again, memorising every word she said, just to be able to drag out the moment with her. But ever since she had told him about his sister's betrayal, he felt a strange mixture of joy and fear, curiosity and evil foreboding with each new letter. He was still uncomfortable with the idea that things were going on in Rome that were not only beyond his control but also completely beyond his knowledge.
Excited like a small child on its birthday, Gaius broke the familiar, plain seal, unwound the red ribbon from the papyrus with impatient fingers and finally, after what felt like an eternity, rolled up the document. Even the now familiar swing of her hand brought a small smile to his face. From the papyrus, an almost imperceptible whiff of lavender and coconut rose to his nose, instantly transporting him to another, warmer place. Unnoticed, a small piece of paper fluttered out of the roll and remained next to his father's stilus with the reverse side facing up.

Dearest Gaius,

There is hardly a greater pleasure for us than to receive another of your letters, in which you tell us about your latest adventures. By now Julius has made a habit of intercepting your letters and rushing into our chambers with them, just to be faster than our mail.
Today I can surprise you with joyful news from Rome. Last night you became a father for the second time. Your daughter, Julia Antonia, and I are well. Even though I must have given the doctor quite a scare when he refused to wash his hands (but believe me, he had it coming).
I know you were going to name your daughter Drusilla in honour of your sister, but your grandmother has been a very great support to me over the past few months and without her we both probably wouldn't be alive.

The Senate awaits your victory, the people are already shouting in the streets for your triumph and we long for your victorious return.

Yours forever

Aurelia

Something about her words made him wonder. Again and again, he read through the words, but he just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Her tone sounded strange, so foreign and impersonal. Only gradually did he realise what she was really trying to tell him. He had a daughter, his own little Aurelia. His feelings began to go crazy. For one thing, he felt nothing but happiness. He had a daughter. She was alive. Aurelia was alive. What did it matter then if she had been named after his sister or his grandmother? She was his little girl and he already loved her with all his heart. But he was also infinitely surprised and to his own dissatisfaction he felt a wave of negative emotions rising within him. There was so much anger, sadness, bitterness, frustration and fear inside him that for the first time in years he felt the darkness inside him that he had thought he had overcome years ago.
Breathing heavily, he gently placed the letter on his desk, then buried his face in his hands and tried to focus on the good that existed in his life. Like the little girl who had to grow up without her father for the next few years and for whom he would be nothing more than a name without a face.
How long he remained like that, he could not say. Every now and then, muffled voices sounded in his ear, but they did not reach him. His mind was so preoccupied with itself that he did not even register how his body was crying.
Suddenly a hand rested on his shoulder, the warmth of another body crept into his body and cleared his racing thoughts. He lifted his head from his hands with difficulty and only when he met the light brown eyes of his friend Vespasian, who eyed him anxiously. Only now did Gaius taste the salt of his tears on his lips, stand up impassively, run to his bowl and wash his face. The icy cold of the water stung his skin and drove the last remnant of darkness from his thoughts. She had only done what he himself had suggested for this scenario.
Turning slowly to face his friend, he was surprised to find Vespasian holding a note in his hands and examining it intently with narrowed eyes. Still stirred up inside, Gaius crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned casually against the dresser on which the wash bowl stood. At least he had gotten himself back under control enough to hide his inner turmoil from others. Before he could ask his friend what he was looking at with such fascination, Vespasian said enthusiastically: "Well, I would say the little one has been lucky and takes after her mother. But of course, it could also be that the painter is simply half blind. I can hardly make out which of the children is supposed to be the newborn, and I always had Julius in mind when I saw my son"
Astonished, Gaius forced himself to grin knowingly, stepped up beside his friend, plucked the piece of papyrus from his hand and delved into the tiny drawing. The first thing that caught his eye was Julius, beaming with pride, holding a bundle in his arms. His bright hair seemed to glow on the thin papyrus. Curious, Gaius focused on the bundle his son so proudly presented and automatically a genuine smile formed on his lips. Julia Antonia. His girl. But by Apollo, Vespasian was absolutely right - the drawing was so tiny that one could barely guess at the children's features. Still, Gaius tried to explore and memorise the strokes and lines.
"Congratulations, my friend," Vespasian whispered, slapping him encouragingly on the shoulder and slipping out of the tent. With a sad smile on his lips, Gaius stroked the tiny drawing, wishing for the first time not for himself that this campaign would soon be over, but for this sweet, innocent little girl whom he desperately wanted to meet now that he knew of her existence.